


Until Our Final Journey to the Ground

by elk_land



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, F/F, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elk_land/pseuds/elk_land
Summary: In the year 2150, the timing was simply not right for Lexa and Clarke to have their happy ending, but what if their story started a hundred years earlier?Clarke is fresh out of high school and trying to figure out what to do with her life when she is attacked one night left for dead on the side of the road. She wakes up in a bed and home not her own, where she meets a kind Lexa. Her intentions are to train Clarke to join her gang, but it could maybe become more?
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	1. Won

The entire time I walked back from Olo’s, something felt off. I had two bags filled with groceries in one hand and a jug of milk in the other, so it wasn’t like I was expecting anything to happen. I was walking back from the store because my driver’s license was revoked a few months ago. My mom said I was lucky she even still let me out at the time of the crash, but it wasn’t like I would have gone out much anyways.

So now here I am, paranoid to walk the three blocks home from work, and living alone. Right after graduation I convinced a few friends who planned on staying in the area to rent an apartment with me, but Harper decided she wanted to go out-of-state and Monty followed her there. I found one cheap enough a few blocks from Olo’s, got a job, and have been just trying to avoid life. It’s not much, but it’s better than living at home with my mom.

I put down the gallon of milk for a second to grab my phone and check to see if she had messaged me since I checked this morning. Nothing.

I knew she was still mad at me for leaving, but I couldn’t stay there and act like everything was the same. I put my phone back in my purse and went to grab the milk, when I felt a pounding blow to the side of my head. 

Before I could comprehend what was happening, my vision faded, and I joined my fallen groceries on the ground.

I dreamt of Wells and I with the breeze on our necks. I told him to slow down in a fit of laughter, but he sped up. I looked at him, his beautiful eyes glimmering with excitement, and thought that life couldn’t get any better than this. This was the boy I was going to marry; I knew it and so did the rest of town. Two high school sweethearts—prince and princess as we were known—couldn’t have been more in love. The dream changed, and I was looking at his body outside of the windshield. Those same eyes were open, but this time nothing but emptiness showing. The blood was rising and—

“Restrain her arms tighter. I can’t have another one fighting.”

I was awake, and realized very quickly I wasn’t in my home, in my bed, or in my clothes. 

“What the hell? Don’t touch me!”

My head swung around the room trying to make sense of what was going on. It was dark, so definitely not the hospital. There were two people, both with masks on and to be men, took my arms and pinned them at an uncomfortable angle to the bed post, if you could call it that. I was on a cold metal frame with no mattress, with only a tank top and underwear, not my underwear, to cover me. I pulled on my arms as hard as I could, but the men only tied tighter.

I started to sob as the gravity of the situation started to become more real. “Please tell me what’s going on, I swear to God I won’t tell anyone please just let me go.”

Neither of the people stopped, but that was when I noticed a third person in the room. They were sitting on a beat-up couch in the corner, and they seemed nervous too. I saw they could be next, so I screamed.

“Get out of here! Run, get us help!” 

The figure stood up quickly, and instead of running like I anticipated, I heard a laugh. A woman’s laugh. 

“Help from what?” she remarked. “This?”

As she said that, she walked to me and took my arm where it was tied. She traced down my arm to my stomach, then stopped. 

“Can I?” she motioned to the edge of my tank top and started to lift.

My heart started to hurt from beating so fast and I cried out. “Please don’t hurt me!”

She didn’t seem to care about my answer and pulled it up to just under my breasts. I looked at my exposed ribs and felt ashamed. There were bruises lining my stomach and I started to wonder if she was about to make more.

“Nyko, make sure this one isn’t internal bleeding. Gustus, bring me my bag” she said more softly this time, and pressed her palm to the largest of the bruises. 

I winced, but there wasn’t as much pain as I expected. When the one she called Gustus came back, she fished in her bag for a moment before pulling out scissors and she set them next to me on the bed.

I started to cry again. I wasn’t ready to die. She seemed to understand what I was thinking, and immediately pulled bandages out after,

“I’m not here to hurt you Clarke.”

Surprised, I answered. “How do you know my name? And why would you not hurt me that after doing this?”

I gestured to my stomach, and she seemed surprised. “We didn’t hurt you Clarke. We found you.”


	2. Tu

“We didn’t hurt you Clarke. We found you.”

The words resonated in me. Somehow, in this messed up situation, despite everything telling me I’m wrong, my gut told me to trust her.

“What’s your name?”

She smiled slightly as she started to work on bandaging me. “I’m Lexa. This is Nyko,” she pointed at the guy who had just came back into the room, “and this is Gustus.”

She motioned to the guy who was not sitting on the couch and had earlier given her the bag.

“You can trust me and them. We are only here to help.”

I wanted to scoff. “Then why am I like this?”

I let my head gesture to my barely clothed self, the bruises, and then lastly my arms.

“I didn’t want to have to do it this way, but people tend to lash out when they wake up like this. Nyko, show her.”

The guy walked hesitantly over, and Lexa stood up. She seemed so tiny in comparison to Nyko, but he seemed to greatly respect her. She raised an arm and turned his face toward me. I saw a long scar running from the neck to below his eye.

“The last time I had Nyko bandage someone, he thought restraints weren’t necessary. He was clawed at. Nails aren’t as harmless as one would think.”

I looked at my own nails, somewhat long, and felt a little bad.

“I think we can trust you too now,” she said as she started to untie one of my arms. 

She paused for a moment and stared at me. “Don’t try anything.”

She untied the first hand and then the second, and I could relax a little more. I sunk down onto the bed frame and stretched my wrists as Lexa continued to bandage me. I just couldn’t stop looking at her, and thankfully she didn’t notice. Her face seemed to have paint on it, so without her noticing I gently moved my thumb to her face and pressed it against her cheek to wipe off.

As fast as I could see, she threw the scissors across the room, straddled me, and pinned both of my arms above the bed. Gustus and Nyko both stood up and reached for something on their lower back.

“I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t going to do anything,” I whispered.

She was crushing what has left of my ribs, and I thought I was going to pass out.

“You had something on your face.”

It seemed to click that I didn’t mean any harm, and she slowly got off me, and smirked.

“Of course you didn’t, but I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to do that.”

I held of a reluctant smile, and I felt my face grow hot. I realized I was burning up actually. My whole body started to burn, and not in the good way.

“I feel hot,” I managed to mumble, but it was like all of the air got sucked out of me.

The last thing I saw was a concerned look on Lexa’s face.


	3. Thri

This time when I woke up, I didn’t feel like absolute shit. My body hurt, but I was comfortably warm. I seemed to be in a hospital room, but that couldn’t be right. I looked around some more and saw that this room was empty except for me and one other person all the way on the other end in a chair.

“Hello?” I called out, hoping they’d come over.

However, they seemed to be asleep, so I tried my hardest to close my eyes and go back to sleep. I was too tired to care, and the hospital was safe, so I drifted back into darkness.

No dreams came to me, which I was thankful for. I felt a hand on my shoulder after a great amount of time, and I opened my eyes to see someone looking down at me. The room was much brighter, so it took me a second to realize this person was Lexa.

“I think you should be fine to sit up. Can I help?”

I nodded, and she pushed a button that moved me up. It was slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. As I adjusted myself, a woman with a clipboard walked in.

“You sure are lucky to have her Mrs. Moreno. I think your wife has been here every day this week to see you.”

Okay, okay, hold up. What??? My mind was trying to comprehend what the lady meant and why she called me Mrs. Moreno. Before I could speak up, Lexa replied.

“Actually, I am the lucky one. Thank you for taking such great care of her. Are we all clear to go? I finished the papers.”

She handed a stack to the lady and handed me folded clothes.

“This looks fine to me. Please take care and make sure you go over the medications with her,” the lady replied, and walked out of the room.   
“What’s going on?” I said as soon as she left.

“I’ll explain in the car, please just get dressed.”

I lightly turned and hopped down to sit on the edge of the bed. I started to reach for clothes to put them on when Lexa’s phone rang.

She started walking out of the door but stopped and said “Hold on a second. I’m coming back,” and left.

I only got a shirt on before she came back with paper and a pen in her hand. She scribbled something down and stuck the paper, folded, in her back pocket. I started to put pants on, but I felt a stabbing pain and winced loudly. Lexa’s face flashed towards me, and while she spoke to the phone between her ear and shoulder, she grabbed the pants. 

Quietly, she looked up. “Let me.”

Unfortunately, I let this stranger put my pants on, seeing as I couldn’t do it myself. She might have spent a little to long with her hands around my thighs and calves, but I never felt endangered.

“Stand.”

She hung up her call, and as I rose, she grabbed my ass.

“Sorry, I meant to grab your pants,” she chuckled.

While I stood, she pulled my pants the rest of the way up and tied the sweatpants for me. She took off her jacket, and handed it to me

“You’ll probably be cold, put it on.”

Confused, I asked, “Where am I going?”

She just smiled. “Home, of course.”


	4. Fou

Most of the car ride was silent, until I decided I needed some answers. I had too many questions for her.

“What were those papers you gave that lady in the hospital. And what medication was she talking about?”

Lexa looked at the road ahead as she drove, but her face showed amusement.

“Those were your discharge papers. Don’t worry about medical expenses Mrs. Moreno. Your second question can be answered by reaching into the center console.”

I got a little pissed that she thought it was funny to lie about my name to medical experts, but I realized that if I wanted answers, I needed to play nice.

“Is your last name Moreno?”

It definitely touched a nerve when I asked it, because her brows furrowed, and she tightened her grip on the wheel.

“No. I just couldn’t risk having your name on record there.”

Unsatisfied, I opened the center console to read the prescription label. When I peered inside, a medicine bottle was not the first thing I saw despite it sitting on top. No, I saw the gun sitting underneath it first. I froze, unsure if this was a test or by complete accident. My hand shook, but I reached in as if nothing were odd. It was so tempting to take that gun and demand Lexa to give me the truths I wanted, but I knew this was a fight I couldn’t win. Also, I had never even touched a gun before, so I picked up the bottle, and closed the console.

It read a fake name and ‘hydrocodone’, so I held it up to Lexa for her to explain.

“What is hydrocodone?”

“Oh God give me that,” she snatched it out of my hands, rolled down the window, and tossed the entire bottle out.

“What the hell?”

“Those are addictive, trust me. I’ll give you something I have at home.”

“I thought you were takin me to MY home,” I exclaimed.

Lexa smiled, and kept silent as she kept driving. She passed the exit to my house, and drove maybe another mile or two, and before I knew it, she pulled into a driveway. It was dark already, so I looked out, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“You live here?”

I was looking at the kind of house my family would have driven past on a holiday to admire lights. It could easily be called a mansion. All the houses in the area were far apart and as big, some even bigger. I suddenly felt incredibly out-of-place being in such a neighborhood.

“Come on, I’ll get you that medicine.”

I turned to look at her. She had a prideful look, like she knew I’d be impressed to be here. I started to think she may have thrown the medicine out the window for a reason other than their addictiveness. I got out of the car finally and stumbled past her. She looked back at me impatiently, then retraced her steps to me to put my arm over her shoulder.

“It’s not that far. Tell me if you need a break walking.”

I wondered how I got into this situation in the first place, and limped all the way to her front door. To my shock, a man opened the door for her and me, and I entered.


	5. Fai

This might sound weird, but her house smelled exactly like I’d imagine it to from the outside. It was warm and reminded me of honey. The floor didn’t creak, and the wall paint wasn’t chipped. Her walls were filled with real art, not shitty charcoal sketches like mine was. I started to feel relieved she didn’t see my apartment the more of her house I saw. 

“Can I get you something to drink or eat while I get you painkillers?” Lexa snapped me out of my head.

“Oh, do you have alcohol? Anything strong.”

If you had asked me before the accident if I’d imagine myself in the house of a stranger with a gun asking for alcohol, I would have told you to stop messing around.

“Are you twenty-one? I thought you were younger,” Lexa inquired.

I sighed. “No.”

She didn’t respond, but instead walked away, so I started to follow her. We ended up in her kitchen, which while it was as luxurious as the room I just saw, seemed more personal. She had paperwork all along her bar-top, and a box cut open. She also had noted written scattered around on counter tops or taped to cabinet doors.

“Sorry for the mess. Here,” she said as she handed me a very small drink.

I took a sip. Vodka. I didn’t mind and took the shot, handing the glass back to her. She refilled it, then turned, and started looking in a cabinet. I took the shot, this time it went down easier.

She returned and handed me two pills.

“Take both of these,” she ordered as she refilled the glass. 

This time, she took the shot, then went to grab another shot glass.  
“We can sit over there,” she pointed to the sofa on the other side of the kitchen.

Her living room was beautiful. There was a fireplace, and a television, something I have never had in a house. Lexa filled the two glasses and handed one to me. I sat on the sofa, and she rested on the love seat across from me.

“Thank you.”

She looked up at me and smiled, but then receded into her own head. After some time, she looked back up.

“Do you remember anything about when you were walking like how you got those bruises?”

She seemed afraid to hear the answer. She couldn’t possibly care so much about me, right? She slouched in her chair and rested her head in her hands.

“I don’t remember much. I was walking back from—,” I thought whether I should tell her I worked at a grocery store, considering she probably had a high paying job, “running errands and someone hit my head. That’s it. And then I woke up in that room.”

The answer seemed to please her.

“Okay, I wasn’t sure if you saw anything else. I’m just happy we found you and you are alright,” she said sincerely.

I don’t know what caused me to act like this, whether it was the trauma, painkillers, or alcohol, but I got up and stood in front of her. She looked at me with something I didn’t recognize, and I was suddenly compelled to sit on her lap, straddling her like she did to me. I took my last shot while keeping eye contact with her and set my glass on the end table next to her chair.

I felt warm and my stomach was hot, so I sat on her as I wanted. It startled her, but then she moved her arms unsurely, then to my waist. 

“I think you’re drunk Clarke. Let’s get you to bed.” 

I didn’t like this answer, so I leaned forward so my chest was pressing against hers, almost in her face. I wrapped my arms over the back of her chair and thought it would be funny to grind down once to see her reaction. 

Lexa gasped and squeezed my hips, which hurt like hell, but did not make me stop.

I did it again, but this time Lexa grabbed under my thighs and picked me up. I couldn’t see where she was leading me, but eventually she opened a door and let me go.

I landed on a bed, and immediately recognized it as hers. The sheets smelled like her, and just as quick as she had let go of me, she was on top of me again. Her hands roamed my body like she was hungry and searching until I started writhing under her.

I pulled her closer to me, and finally placed a kiss on the side of her neck. Her whole body stopped moving, and I heart the faintest noise come out of her, a moan. I continued moving up with each kiss until I reached her mouth. Her hand intertwined with my hair and tugged lightly.

She managed to move the both of us closer to her pillows, and she unmade her bed as she kissed me back. She picked me up, and placed me under the covers, and gave me a much harder, needier kiss.

“Goodnight Clarke,” she said as she got up abruptly, leaving me there, and walked out of the room, shutting the door closed and lights off with her.


	6. Sis

It seemed like waking up to pain was my new normal. I considered staying in bed all morning before getting up for some water and aspirin, but the throbbing in my head didn’t simmer. I pulled the covers off me, sat up, and realized I was not home like I thought. The memories of last night came flooding back.

“Oh fuck,” accidentally slipped out when I thought about Lexa and me.

Why would I throw myself on someone I just met? She was so kind helping me, and I repaid her with making her uncomfortable. I felt so embarrassed.

I noticed a knock at the door.

“I heard you, I know you’re up Clarke,” one very familiar voice teased.

“Lexa, I’m so sor–” was all I could get out before she shushed me.

“It’s my fault, I didn’t number your drinks. Don’t worry about it, Clarke.”

I still felt bad, but I wanted to show her I wasn’t always some drunk.

“I promise that won’t ever happen again, Lexa.”

When the words left my mouth, I instantly regretted them. She seemed hurt, but quickly masked it and started smiling again.

“While you were asleep, I had your things moved here. You’re going to need someone to look after you while you recover,” Lexa blurted out. “Don’t worry I made sure to not leave anything behind. And you made the job easy for us, there wasn’t much to pack anyways,” she laughed.

My face was burning from embarrassment. If she really did pack up my things, she saw everything; my sink full of dishes, my dirty laundry, my sketches…  
“No really, you are too kind I can take care of myself at my own home. I’m sorry you already went through the trouble, let me pay you back,” I begged.

I got out of bed and started to make it for her. I wonder where she slept, obviously not in here. My eyes surveyed her room and saw a lounge chair with a pillow and blanket wrinkled on it. I hope she didn’t come back to sleep there. 

“Lexa, please.”

She finally met my eyes. “Fine, but I don’t want your money. Pay me back by owing me a few favors, alright?” 

“Favors?”

“Yeah, you know, like helping around the house and maybe helping me at work. I promise it isn’t too strenuous,” she said, uncertainty in her voice.

She seemed to really want me to take the offer. In all honesty, I was glad, because there was no way I would have been able to pay her back anyways.

“Thank you. Truly.”

“Don’t mention it Clarke. And how about you join me downstairs for some breakfast? Do you cook?”

I smiled, and finished making her bed.

“That sounds great. And yes.”

She led me downstairs (she carried me up stairs last night) to her kitchen where I passed the couch from last night. I thought about how great it would be to do that again, to feel so alive. But it can’t.

“Here are pans and bowls, this cabinet has most of the food, and the stove is pretty easy to figure out. Make whatever you want and sorry about the mess,” she spoke as she gestured to places around the kitchen.

The last part was rushed as she started grabbing the papers from around the kitchen and putting them into piles.

“Work stuff, you know?” Lex laughed, but nervously.

I couldn’t understand how she was embarrassed over a little mess when she just saw my home.

“Does pancakes sound alright to you?” I called out.

Lexa had disappeared to another room with the stacks of papers. When I heard no answer, I peered around the other side of the kitchen to see if she was there. I saw a few notes had fallen, probably off the stack she was carrying. I tried, I really did, to not read it, but my eyes couldn’t help it. I picked one up and read it.

‘Reece Auto Repair. Ice. Moltovs and semi-autos. 8/24’. Something about it gave me a very bad feeling, but when I heard soft footsteps, I dropped the note to the ground where I found it. I continues pulling items out to start cooking some pancakes, and she seemed to not notice I had ever touched it.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa said out of the blue.

“For what? Breakfast? It’s not even done yet,” I retorted.

“Yeah, that. And for trusting me. For staying.”

I turned my back to her and smiled as I started heating up the pan. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I was content. This was something I could get used to, not that I would let myself stay here too long. I was happy to feel wanted.

“Anytime Lexa.”


	7. Sen

Lexa insisted on helping me unpack after breakfast, even though I really didn’t want her seeing my stuff. She laughed at my struggles trying to lift boxes, but she always caved in and moved them for me. We finally got to a box she had labeled ‘art’.

“I saw these when I was packing, did you draw them?”

Reluctantly, I answered truthfully.

“Yeah, but I don’t draw much anymore. Most of these are at least a few years old.”

I piqued her interest. “Why don’t you draw anymore?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her. I could tell her that I couldn’t afford more supplies, which was true. But, I could also tell her I haven’t drawn since Wells died, which was true, but not as lighthearted. 

Not wanting to ruin the mood, I replied, “I guess I just didn’t have time anymore. Life gets busy.”

She nodded in agreement as she sifted through sketches. She spent what seemed like forever on each one, and I was just hoping she never asked me about any. Things, as they do, tend to not work out in my favor, so as I was hoping to not explain pictures, she handed one to me.

“Who are they?” 

I took the sketch and looked at it. I must have drawn it years ago because it was not my best work. I couldn’t stop the tears building in my eyes when I looked at those faces.

I sniffled, “These were my friends in high school. The one on the left is Jasper. This one is Harper, and this is Monty. They actually ended up dating.”

I laughed as I remembered all the dumb stuff we did back then. I thought back to the pranks Jasper and Monty would pull me into, even though I never wanted to be a part of them. I cared too much about my reputation.

“And who is the one next to you?” she said.

“That’s Wells. This was actually for him. I guess it got lost,” I wiped a tear before Lexa could see anything.

“You should invite some of them over! I really wouldn’t mind hosting. No one is ever here but me and staff.”

I pushed down everything inside of me, I felt like I was going to burst.

“No thanks, I uh actually don’t talk to any of them anymore. Thank you, though,” I said and stood up. 

I started undoing more boxes to see if there were things I could sell to save money to hopefully rent my apartment back after I leave Lexa’s. I didn’t need a couch or a table really, or all of these old photographs. I moved most of the boxes to a ‘donate’ pile.

None of these memories were worth keeping. It just reminded me of what I lost and would never get back. I figured I could post most of this online to sell, when I noticed I still didn’t have my phone on me.

“By any chance, did you find my phone when you found me?”

Lexa, from behind a box, replied. “No, sorry, but if you need to make a call or text right now, I can give you mine.”

I remembered I really didn’t have anyone to call besides my mom, but since she worked so much, and I was so distant, it was normal to go a few months without talking to her.

“I’ll be alright. I’m not expecting anyone to contact me,” I have laughed, half sighed.  
Lexa was upset by my remark. She didn’t find it funny. 

“Where are your clothes?”

I saw her confused look and replied. “I went through that box earlier. Most stuff is over in the donate pile. I only really need a few shirts and pants to get by.”

“You can borrow my clothes too, Clarke, you know that, right?”

I was taken aback. I hadn’t noticed that I haven’t changed my clothes since I left the hospital, and these weren’t even my own clothes, probably Lexa’s too. At that moment, I really wanted a shower. 

“Come with me, I’ll show you to them.”

Lexa supported me as I stood us, and I waddled up the stairs after her. She brought me back into her bedroom, but this time she opened up the giant closet to the side of her bed and lounge chair. There were so many different clothes, I just had to run my fingers across the fabrics.

“Oh, and the intimates are on the other side. If you need a different size we can go out sometime and shop,” Lexa indicated to the lower section with more clothes. “I know you probably haven’t had a nice shower in a few days, so why don’t you? The bathroom is this door right here.”

I teased, “Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

She laughed hard, beautifully. 

“Yes, Clarke, you smell so bad. Please do me a favor and take a shower. There are already towels in there, and wear whatever you want.”

Lexa left me in the bedroom to shower, and a smile creeped across my face.


	8. Eit

“So how do you feel about heading into work with me later? I just thought it would be nice to get out of the house, and since I took last week off, I need to catch my people up on a lot of things.”

Lexa turned to me waiting for me to respond. I was beyond excited, so I nodded and walked over to the sofa and sat. She followed with a mug in her hand and pills in the other, standing in front of me.

“You are probably going to need these for that headache of yours,” she smiled.

I slipped the pills in my mouth and took a swig from the mug. The tea was delicious.

“Thank you again for taking care of me. I feel like a kid again,” I laughed back.

Lexa sat down across from me and smirked. “Clarke, that’s because you are a kid.”

I felt a little insulted but shrugged it off.

“Well how old are you then?” I demanded.

“Twenty-two.”

Although four years seemed like such a large gap in high school, it didn’t seem so far apart anymore. It made me smile a bit, that Lexa couldn’t tell I was younger than her when I asked for a drink last night.

“What do you do for a living, ma’am?” I teased back, making sure she got the ‘you’re old’ point.

However, she seemed to like being called that. I probably inflated her ego instead of messing with her. Great.

“I guess you could say I’m part of a small business. I’m sort of the boss,” she said jokingly.  
“No, really, what do you do?” I shot back.

“Well, my company imports and exports expensive items for private buyers,” she informed me.

This grabbed my attention. “Oh, like paintings or sculptures and stuff?”

She just laughed and stood up. It made sense; her house was filled with beautiful pieces. I was dying to have a look around, but I didn’t want to ask. She took my tea, which I had finished, from my hands and went to place it in the sink. Lexa walked back over to me.

“Ready to go?”

. . .

“It’s huge, Lexa,” I said as I stared up at the building she drove us to.

It was easily five or six stories high, and the side of it seemed like a warehouse of sorts. We walked together to the entrance, where she pulled out an I.D. badge and scanned it.

“That’s what she said,” she remarked as she led me inside.

The place reminded me of the hospital, because everywhere I looked, I saw white. The walls were pristine and bare. There was a man at the front desk that Lexa rushed up to, and started whispering with. He pointed at me with a somewhat angry look on his face, and then toward the doorway to the left of him. Lexa was absolutely pissed by whatever he had said, because her fists clenched the counter so hard her knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I was out of line,” the man said solemnly, and sunk into his chair behind the reception counter.

“Come on Clarke, this way.”

I followed Lexa into a long hallway until she opened the door at the end. We walked in, and I immediately recognized it as Lexa’s office. She had candles everywhere, and photographs, but not of herself. I circled the room and surveyed the photos. There was one I couldn’t peel my eyes from, it was a crowd of people around something. As I moved around, I noticed something a little horrifying.

All the photos I had seen so far had been crime scenes.

“You can sit here while I run out. Feel free to look around,” Lexa called out as she headed for the door.

I made my way to her chair and sat down to think. If I wanted to become friends with Lexa, I needed to understand some of these strange things about her. I figured since she didn’t mind me looking around, I’d open some desk drawers. The results were fairly boring though, most had staples, pens, papers, and folders. When I got to the very bottom drawer, it wouldn’t budge.

I pulled as hard as I could and got nothing but a shooting pain down my sides. One thing I learned from living in a shitty apartment, was that almost anything could come unstuck or unlocked with a sharp object. I found a pocket knife in her top drawer, which I guess isn’t too weird, and popped open the bottom cabinet after a few minutes of maneuvering it.

And that was when I saw another gun.


	9. Nain

My mind went blank, and I sat there with my hand resting on the desk drawer for what seemed like an eternity. I heard the door open and close again, but I just couldn’t bring myself to look up. 

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Lexa chimed from the other side of the desk.

Had she walked two more steps closer, she would have seen what I was staring at. My head finally raised, and as unnoticeably as I could, I used my leg to close the drawer. I continued to not speak though; I didn’t know what to say at this point. That is, until I found myself speaking from inside.

“What do you really do for a living?”

Lexa’s smile faded, but she put a forced one right back on.

“I import and export expensive items for private buyers, I already told you,” she tried to laugh off.

“Did you rehearse that answer? I’m pretty sure it was the exact one you gave me earlier, word-for-word,” I said as my voice raised. “So how about you just tell me the truth.”

She walked around to behind the desk and next to me, crouched down, and put her hands on my thighs. Lexa stared at me with such a ferocity chills went up my body.

“I think you and I both know I can’t do that.”

My temper skyrocketed. “Is it illegal?”

She just nodded.

“Then I shouldn’t stay here. I’m leaving,” I said, standing up and pushing her hands off of me.

I marched for the door, and stopped, maybe for a second to look back. Lexa’s face killed me, for she looked like she had been the one just lied to.

I ignored it, and reached for the knob, but it didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry Clarke, I really can’t have you leaving after I told you.”

My body jerked back towards Lexa and I lost it.

“What the fuck is going on?” I cried, tears coming out of nowhere.

Maybe they were from frustration, or maybe from sadness, but all I was sure of in that moment was that I didn’t want her to see me cry. I collapsed into a ball on the floor, my entire body in pain, clutching my arms so tight I drew blood.

“Clarke calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” Lexa pleaded.

I didn’t believe a word she said but knew that if I wanted to get out of here, I had to convince her I was fine. I forced myself to stop crying, and I motioned to the pictures on the walls.

“Explain why you have photographs of crime scenes,” I said, my voice cracking at the end.

She came near, and although I flinched, she embraced me. Her hands supported my weight, and she led me over to her chair.

Lexa sat on the corner of her desk and looked at her photos as she talked. “In my line of work, we need to be able to reference times we messed up, so they don’t happen again. I use them to remind myself every day to be a better boss.”

She got up and took my hand.

“I promise I’m going to tell you everything soon. Just give me more time,” she said as she clutched my hand softly.

I couldn’t help but trust her this time.

“Okay,” I whispered.

I had this compulsion to just go home and sleep in her bed and forget everything shady I’ve seen the past few days. All I wanted was to be wrapped up in her arms and carried. What was happening to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I include a POV from Lexa soon???


End file.
